


Very Distinctly, Very Fondly

by fountainpens



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: F/F, Flashbacks, Fluff, Missing Scene, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 18:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fountainpens/pseuds/fountainpens
Summary: Ann Walker only caught brief glimpses of Anne Lister before having her all to herself. These are two flashbacks and an addition to the reunion scene that let us share in those glimpses.





	Very Distinctly, Very Fondly

**Author's Note:**

> (I'm quite uncertain about the timeline here, but I wanted to depict particular moments and realizations in these three scenes that may not completely coincide with dates and chronology. Sorry about that for your fact-checkers out there. I hope, however, that I've kept to the general spirit of these moments and what they meant to our Ann(e)s.)

_“My mother died quite suddenly after my father. I don’t know if you remember. You came for tea with me and my sister Elizabeth. We walked in the garden. You probably had no idea at the time, but you made my whole world a little bit brighter that day. I remember it very distinctly, very fondly.”_

The days of grieving passed and were replaced with their current state of numb listlessness. The clock chimed, and with each new hour, Ann looked towards her sister, wondering when they’d resume their lives. But Elizabeth only performed the necessities, still caught in a limbo after so much death.

Ann, on the other hand, had been far worse in those early days. She could hardly remember them herself, but she could recall waking up one morning to see her sister’s face, eyes red-rimmed and sunken in sleeplessness. Ann emerged from a haze to witness her sister recede into her own.

Now, she wished for activity, some movement, a jolt to revive her home back to consciousness. All she could do was look through their window and up the front walk, while smoothing the front of her heavy black silks.

Then suddenly, Ann spotted her. A thin shape in black speeding across the frame of the window case, kicking up the gravel behind her.

“I’ll be right back,” she whispered to her sister, who looked up quizzically, but Ann couldn’t stop. She felt sprung into action finally and, before she knew it, raced out the door and down the front path. The small gravel stones pinched against the soft soles of her slippers, but she barely noticed. Having reached the main road, she spotted the receding figure.

“Miss Lister!” Ann called, then sped off again, as if to catch her weak cry and hopefully meet Miss Lister before her nerve fled.

But no, her voice beat her racing feet to Miss Lister, who turned and seemed startled to hear her name called. Ann kept running and, as she neared, noticed Miss Lister’s heavy brow furrowed in further confusion, staring at the no-doubt ridiculous picture she painted.

“Miss Lister,” she panted, finally having reached the woman in question. “I had wondered if...”

And there Ann stopped. What _had_ she wondered? For some reason, just seeing Anne Lister speed past her home caused an almost involuntary action. Now, she had to name this impulse and simply couldn’t. She felt Miss Lister’s penetrating gaze staring down upon her.

“If what, Miss Ann?” Miss Lister spoke with a touch of impatience.

“If—If—,” she stuttered, “If you would be so kind as to join my sister and me for tea. We’d just ordered it when I saw you walk past and...and...I wondered whether you wouldn’t like some.”

A dismal conclusion, but Ann nevertheless felt proud of her ability to think up an excuse. She so rarely worked well under pressure. Yet, Miss Lister’s presence emboldened her for some reason, the woman’s confident pose perhaps transferring over to her.

Miss Lister, for her part, raised an eyebrow, tilted her head, then let her gaze roam across Ann’s face, her dress, and no-doubt her trembling hands, which Ann tried to hide amongst the pleats of her gown. She felt her heart pulse with something quite like excitement or perhaps that was merely the lingering physical result of her sprint. True excitement hadn’t seemed to visit her in ages.

In looking at her, Miss Lister’s face softened somewhat. Ann could tell that, at first, she seemed bothered by the interruption and perhaps that bother still remained. For now, she pulled her pocket watch from her waistcoat, checked it, then flicked her gaze back up to Ann, still slyly trying to catch her breath.

“I suppose I could spare some time for tea,” Miss Lister finally said, snapping her pocket watch shut. “Lead the way. I’ll try to keep up.”

Miss Lister grinned as she spoke, and Ann felt herself blush and quickly began walking, at a much more leisurely pace, back to Crow Nest.

Having caught Miss Lister, Ann hadn’t the slightest idea what to do with her now that she walked at her side. She instantly felt the burden of a woman like Miss Lister’s visit. How could she entertain such a person, who loved to travel and could barely be kept in Halifax for a few months at a time? Ann felt herself getting trapped in her own head.

“I’m sorry,” she heard Miss Lister say.

“For what?” Ann replied, on impulse.

“For your loss,” Miss Lister said and drew her eyebrows together again. “Your losses. My condolences to you.”

“Oh yes, thank you.” Ann felt caught in Miss Lister’s gaze, which looked at her kindly now, seeming to understand her mental disarray without having it explained. Sensing the conversation resting on herself, Ann continued. “And you, Miss Lister. Have you recently lost someone?”

Miss Lister’s stride stuttered, just as Ann’s voice had a few moments before. She looked down at Ann in surprise, which made Ann wonder if, in her own grief, she’d not heard of a death at Shibden Hall. She felt her own mortification wash over her, like a drop of ice slipping from her neck down her spine. She just had not remembered Miss Lister as one prone to black in her dress. Indeed, she was prone to other eccentricities, but they were always dashed in deep jewel tones. Miss Lister’s growing pallor, however, only made Ann wish a pit would swiftly swallow her up.

“Not recently, no,” Miss Lister replied and pulled at her collar in seeming discomfort. “But yes, I have lost someone dear to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Ann instantly interjected. “I did not mean to pry.”

Miss Lister hummed in response and looked down towards the gravel as they moved from the main road to the front path of Crow Nest.

“But perhaps,” Ann continued, still trying to rectify her mistake and bring that earlier softness back to Miss Lister’s dark eyes, “We’ll both be moving back to colors again...w-with the changing of the seasons.”

“I think not. My mourning may continue for quite some time, Miss Ann.”

_Longer than mine for a mother?_ Ann wanted to reply, but she thought better of it. She finally understood that Miss Lister seemed not to be mourning a death at all.

“That’s a shame,” Ann said instead, her impetuosity continuing to shock her this afternoon. “Black doesn’t suit you. I like you better in brightness.”

They’d reached the steps to her front door. Ann began walking up them, but a strong grasp held her back by her wrist. She turned to see Miss Lister looking at her with something akin to surprise. When Ann stood still, returning her gaze for a few moments, Miss Lister finally chuckled softly and shook her head.

“And what color does Miss Ann Walker of Crow Nest prefer me in?”

Miss Lister crept closer to her, and her thumb rubbed against Ann’s pulse as a result.

“Blue,” Ann whispered, remembering that morning’s walk four — _or was it five?_ — years ago. “Sapphire blue.”

* * *

“ _Ever since the first time I saw you when I was eighteen. Younger, I think. The first time I ever saw you I was fourteen. And I knew then, I just knew.”_

A fresh spring day welcomed the Misses Walker as they journeyed out to Halifax for some fabric their mother requested. Elizabeth kept reading through a sheet of paper as they strode through the countryside, and Ann wondered when she’d just put it away and enjoy the natural landscape. Not even her sister’s obliviousness could stifle her though. Ann felt as if she too was blooming with the new season, feeling a sense of possibility that had not visited her yet in her fourteen years.

“Summer fabrics,” Elizabeth said. “Why didn’t she just say that instead of giving an exhaustive account of each one?”

Ann laughed at her sister’s exasperation.

“Oh not summer, not yet. Let us tarry here in spring for a while longer. I’m not yet prepared to give up on these views. Do you think we could stop for some new paints and brushes?”

“Didn’t father buy you supplies only last month?”

“Well, yes,” Ann conceded, “But they’re not the right colors, not for spring, not for—”

As if finishing her own words, her gaze alighted on a patch of primroses clinging to the soil above the bank they currently walked along. She gasped and outpaced her sister, who called out after her to remind her that their path lied to the left. Ann paid her no mind and followed the bank as it curved to the right.

Ann tried reaching out for the wildflowers once she stopped beneath them, but the bank rose too high and, even on a jump, her fingertips could only rasp against the stones above her.

Suddenly, she heard a man’s boot crunching quickly around the curve behind her, and she would have to leave her position to avoid seeming ridiculous. As soon as she tried to, however, her back collided against the person’s chest. Their arm, wrapped in a brilliant blue jacket, reached over her to grasp a handful of primroses. The person pulled the flowers down to Ann’s level, effectively trapping Ann between themselves and the bank.

“There you are,” a deep yet soft voice said. Ann grasped the flowers and began to thank the gentleman as she turned. Then, her words were stolen with her breath.

Dark brown eyes, set beneath a smooth, slightly tanned brow, gazed down at her. They looked at her with equal parts kindness and mischief, while Ann’s gaze traveled the length of this person’s chiseled nose down to full, feminine lips, which lifted in a smirk.

“Miss Anne Lister,” the lips parted in words.

“N-no,” Ann stuttered in reply. “I’m Miss Ann Walker.”

“Pleased to meet you,” the woman chuckled. “But I am Miss Anne Lister.”

Ann felt her cheeks reddening at her mistake and no doubt for a number of other reasons. Yet, she could not control her darting eyes, as they took in the thin dark eyebrows that seemed to dance with her words, the straight teeth and strong jaw, and the long brown hair tied at the nape of her neck with an auburn ribbon. A few stray hairs seemed to have broken free though and framed Miss Lister’s face when they weren’t waving in the wind.

So this was the eldest daughter of Shibden Hall. Ann had heard stories, of course. The Listers mostly kept to themselves, one of the many eccentricities that their neighbors remarked upon when passing the Hall. That and the passing of their eldest son in an accident a few years ago. She knew a few people in her family who enjoyed the Listers’ company during a call, but there were others whose faces darkened when her name was mentioned. Certain stories swirled around her tribe about Miss Lister in particular, but now, looking at the woman face to face, she couldn’t remember any of them.

“Do you like flowers?” Miss Lister asked, alerting Ann to her own silence after Miss Lister’s introduction.

“Yes,” Ann replied, through a frog in her throat. “Wildflowers especially.”

“Ah,” Miss Lister intoned, “A woman after my own heart. And which are your favorites?”

Miss Lister now leant up against the bank, propping herself up with a forearm. Her sapphire blue jacket opened more as a result to reveal a man’s waistcoat the same color as the ribbon in her hair. Ann felt herself getting lost in these sartorial choices, but she remembered her courtesies this time and replied that primroses, heath-blossoms, and bluebells were her favorites.

“Local flowers,” Miss Lister affirmed. “You should travel more, Miss Ann, and discover all the beautiful variety beyond these moors.”

Miss Lister bent slightly down to her own level while saying this and arched one eyebrow at the end of her words.

“I like it here,” Ann whispered. Miss Lister hummed low in reply, gazed at her for a moment, then lengthened her posture once again. From her full height, she gazed again at Ann, this time with a deeper curiosity than had accompanied her question about flowers. Ann could only return her gaze and, in the stillness, realize that her heart hammered within her chest.

Suddenly, Miss Lister seemed to remember something and pulled a pocket watch from her waistcoat. She noted the time, shut it with a snap, then replaced it in her waistcoat.

“Perhaps I should return you to your sister.” Miss Lister began walking back around the curve, and Ann silently fell into step with her, feeling that she never felt more animosity towards a mere object than she did towards that pocket watch.

They rounded the corner, and Ann noticed Elizabeth talking to another woman she recognized only slightly from passing greetings at the shops in Halifax. From the snippets of conversation she could overhear, it seemed that this woman had just been to the same shop Ann and her sister meant to find.

“I’m sorry to have left you with my sister, Miss Walker. Is she decrying the dearth of options in a shop literally packed with flannels and ribbons?”

Both Miss Walkers chuckled softly at Miss Lister’s words, while Miss Marian grew red in the face and leveled a scowl in Miss Lister’s direction. Once the group met, Miss Lister reminded her sister of the time, and, although rolling her eyes slightly, Miss Marian began giving her farewells and asking them over for tea some time. Ann nodded, but her eyes remained upon Miss Lister, who noticed and smiled softly back at her.

Miss Lister extended her hand to Elizabeth for a strong shake, then she did the same for Ann, but held her for a moment longer. She stooped down once again to bid her farewell.

“Goodbye, wildflower.”

When next Ann turned her gaze upward the Lister sisters were already a dozen strides away from them, talking noisily and gesturing widely. Ann finally registered her sister calling her in the opposite direction and only half-listened to her talk. She felt somewhat dazed, as if she had ran a field’s length or taken some opiate, a mixture of exhilaration and overwhelming relaxation.

Yet, her sister’s words finally broke through the fog.

“And in riding boots, good heavens,” Elizabeth said. “It’s no wonder the Rawsons say such things.”

But Ann couldn’t be bothered to hear what the Rawsons said. They wouldn’t understand, and indeed Ann felt that not even she could. She looked down at the hastily gathered bunch of primroses and wished she might one day be given the chance.

* * *

_“I love_ you, _Anne. I’m_ in _love with you. I always have been.”_

They held each other close at the top of the hill. Ann looked out across the countryside as the sun set and felt Anne’s breath ghost across her neck and her gloved hands pulling her closer, almost as if she feared to lose her again.

Ann wrapped her arms around her lover’s shoulders—her fiancee’s shoulders. At that thought, she immediately understood what Anne had meant all those months ago. They needed a more solemn vow for their connection. Anne Lister would be hers. The idea of it almost made her laugh. She thought again of the grief-stricken girl who’d ran after Miss Lister or the one so starstruck upon first sight that she could barely get a word out in Anne’s presence. That same girl held Anne now. From her first crush to her last love affair. No novel could rival it.

She hid her proud smile against the column of Anne’s neck and felt more than heard her low hum in response. Ann lifted one hand from Anne’s shoulder to run her fingers down the low ponytail that rested against Anne’s back. She twirled a few strands, and Anne twisted herself slightly and looked down her nose at Ann.

“What are you thinking?” Anne asked.

Ann merely grinned and shook her head. Anne quirked an eyebrow and nudged her shoulder to encourage Ann to speak.

“It’s nothing, just…,” Ann began. “You look as you did the first time I ever saw you. You probably don’t remember.”

As she spoke, Ann continued combing her fingers through Anne’s hair, but Anne managed to capture her gaze.

“I remember everything,” she stated, in her usual emphatic tones.

“Oh Lord,” Ann laughed, “then you’ll remember me in short skirts and jumping to grasp something quite out of my reach.”

In response, rather than stoop down to her level, Anne raised herself to her full height and Ann’s arms seemed to ascend with Anne’s shoulders.

“Remind me?” Anne said through an amused smirk.

Ann shook her head and laughed. Only a few moments back with Anne, and she’d already laughed twice. She reached up on her toes, while pulling Anne down slightly to reach her lips. She felt the breath of Anne’s chuckle, then suddenly Anne’s arm tightened around her waist and pulled her up the rest of the way.

Ann groaned against Anne’s lips, finally enjoying the moment and their reunion. Anne’s grip tightened more at the sound, and she slanted her lips against hers in a rhythm that Ann instantly remembered although months had passed.

When they parted, Anne still held her close, looking down into her eyes until she seemed to suddenly recall something.

“Blue,” Anne said.

“What?”

“You used to like me in blue.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to comment. :)


End file.
